


between my teeth

by gaias



Category: Compilation of Final Fantasy VII, Final Fantasy VII, Final Fantasy VII Remake (Video Game 2020)
Genre: Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Vampire, Blood Kink, Blood and Gore, Bloodplay, M/M, it's dark, vampire hunter!cloud, vampire!sephiroth
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-07-08
Updated: 2020-07-08
Packaged: 2021-03-04 19:08:13
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,653
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25141408
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/gaias/pseuds/gaias
Summary: With delayed vengeance resurfaces old memories; one's loss is the other's gain.
Relationships: Sephiroth/Cloud Strife
Comments: 9
Kudos: 63





	between my teeth

The manor creaks and heaves in old age - three hundred and twelve years, the last standing monument to the village set aflame by the hollow home’s sole resident: a monster, porcelain skinned and silver haired, eyes inhumanly aglow with narrow pupils, cold as a corpse and beautiful as death. _Sephiroth_ , once regarded as a hero in a history now burnt and discarded, the last vampire after hunters killed the rest - yet what books referred to as the _Nibelheim Incident_ destroyed each soul trained in the art of killing vampires as each hunter resting, waiting to bring the final surviving monster to his doom fell to flames or was drained of every drop of blood.

The vampire leaves at times, of course, as feeding is necessary and has become a simple task of teleporting onto a quiet alleyway and waiting among shadows until a foolish soul stumbles upon it - and with brutal precision, every drop of blood is leached from their veins, and their form is left to wither to naught more than ash and bone.

It’s a far more docile existence than his of past, yet for now, he remains content being seen as a monster of legend, always unseen, ever haunting.

Bones still haunt the outline of ash houses, and few dare step within the ghost of a village after haunting tales that have become more akin to myths amongst the rigid occupants of Midgar - yet every now and then, one proves foolish enough to trespass onto the monster’s terrain.

And _now_ appears one such occasion.

The scent of a human lingers from afar to senses so acutely attuned, healthy, nearly palpable - and so easily, he could locate them before they could hope to step near, yet of some idle amusement, some sliver of possibility for a chase, he simply remains.

Footsteps draw near; boots echo loudly against torn ground, and Sephiroth waits, eyes closed, ears open.

Seconds fade to minutes, minutes to… a knock resounds upon the heavy, half rotted door; a curious, unheard sound in years, as the few bold enough to attempt to intrude typically attempt to do so with far more discretion. 

(All past intruders have become meals or died - typically both, but never do any escape alive.)

The door flies open from afar wordlessly with but a thought, and a voice echoes throughout the large entryway of dark, worn wood and crumbling walls, dust covered velvet and flickering candles.

“Hello?” 

_Finally_ , his intruder’s, his _prey’s_ voice is heard, and a thin smile spreads across his lips, utterly smug at one who had all but walked into his lair - and curiosity, for what reasoning may have driven one to such idiocy. 

Such curiosity consumes him, and he follows it by disappearing to reappear on top the once grand stairwell of the entry, still disfigured by shadows save for the inhuman glow of emerald eyes. 

The human appears frozen in face, slowly turning and eyes shifting, heavy resing sword upon his back - it’s a wonder someone appearing of an utterly small frame can hold such weight, truly. His eyes burn blue, his hair blonde, spiked, his expression softened in a noticeable degree of fear.

“Are manners still instructed?” The monster reveals himself, silver tresses aglow amongst dim moonlight streaming through windows. “ _Trespassing_ is a crime.”

The stranger’s eyes widen in obvious caution, even as he stands firm, unmoving - what a curious creature. “You let me in, didn’t you?”

“Did I?” His head tilts, taunting, smirk tracing thin lips. “The wind blows so heavily at night, this time of the year…” With calculation, he descends from the stairs, dark coat billowing behind. 

“ _You_ … You _monster_.”

His knowing smile spreads - yet still, his mouth does not open enough to show the fangs lying beneath. “Do you seek your death? I may grant you such, in retribution for venturing where you should not.”

Closer, the stranger appears to hold strength beyond most mortals despite a small frame, eyes so nearly glowing like the vampire’s own, arms toned, back supporting such a weapon with ease. 

“ _You’re_ the only one who’s dying today.” The man seethes, and without a moment’s hesitation, grasps the weapon from his back and charges toward Sephiroth - and is met with the vampire dissipating to seemingly nothingness and reforming behind him. Innate magic effortlessly intertwines around the man’s being, forcing the sword to the ground, his body to freeze.

“Tell me why you _truly_ are here, yes?” he purrs into his ear nearly with _softness_ , and the stranger still faces him with some mixture of pain, fury, fear. 

“You… you killed my mother.”

A laugh - cold, hollow, mocking as the helplessness he’s now resorted to. “I’ve killed many.”

“I _know_. I saw it, you monster.”

Silver brows raise near casually despite the accusations placed before him - and the confusion stirring within at a claim to have witnessed it.

“I have rarely been so _public_ in your lifetime.” His eyes narrow, gaze sharpening. 

“You… you killed _hundreds_ , and you don’t call that public? You bastard. You burnt my home down - just outside here. Don’t lie to me.”

Either the one before him stands utterly deluded, or he’s nearly as old as himself.

“You smell human.” His scent is stronger, amplified, but not of a monster. “Shall I see if you taste it?” 

The spell breaks - and abruptly, the stranger moves away with a snarl. “Don’t touch me, you sick bastard.”

A challenge, hm?

A pale hand grasps around a far smaller wrist, forcing the apparent human to face him even as he recoils. “What _do_ you last recall?” 

“You killed my mom, my friends, burnt my village.” It’s spat with hatred met with an unaffected gaze. “You nearly killed me, too -”

Memories long forgotten flash before him - each hunter sent to end him burning at his will as they would see him burn in silver and sunlight, a sword still resting in his grasp at his will cutting down any bystander. One faceless soul so nearly defeating him as water deemed holy temporarily blinded him and a large sword nearly cut him in half - but his own sword pierced their chest in turn, and he left them to die while he slowly regenerated.

“But I was rescued and healed and then I went to sleep - she told me it’d be a while, but I’d get up when it was time - and I woke up, just outside the village you destroyed. And it’s time now - I’m going to kill you.” 

_This_ was the fool who nearly ended his eternity, with the sword as evidence, the strength one of a trained and enhanced hunter embedded in his blood.

“ _Cloud_ …” His name, evidenced by a mother near identical in appearance spoken with such pain. “I remember only one’s mother pleading so fervently, so _desperately_. She spoke naught of you being a hunter.” A smile lines his lips. _“Cloud, run away…”_ The words are twisted and echoed with such cruelty, gaze wild. “And you ran to me, to face the death I did not provide centuries ago.”

Cloud stands frozen, teeth clenched as uncertainty so clearly takes ahold. “Stop trying to mess with me!”

“You slept a long time, Cloud… How any healer froze your body as she did eludes even myself.” His hand moves to his chin, grasping it with the mockery of gentleness as he strokes his cheek. “Does your scar still endure?”

“Get _off_ me.” The blonde growls and breaks from the taller monster’s grasp to take hold of his fallen sword - and again, Sephiroth invokes it to fly from his hand and clatter to the ground as his own sword is summoned into his grasp. _Masamune,_ the blade of a hero so bluntly fallen, the tool of which ended countless with a single strike.

A simple thought throws Cloud to the floor, and a boot is pressed to his chest, Sephiroth’s smile utterly sadistic as the foot is removed and his sword pierces directly through his chest - right where it slid through countless years ago.

Cloud screams and gasps and tears begin to pour from his eyes as blood leaks from his chest - the scent is intoxicating, and Sephiroth’s hunger only grows with every spot of crimson beautifully staining his vision. The blade is ripped from his chest without a thought for damage, his shirt torn as the vampire bends to the bleeding body, teeth sinking into the open, gushing wound as Cloud shivers and curses weakly.

It’s _delicious_ , unlike a meal he’s tasted in centuries - the taste of one enhanced with the purpose to kill him makes it all the sweeter.

“You taste better than a human, Cloud… I forgot how delicious hunters are.”

Tears fall, shocked, shaky breaths still escaping the blonde as he feasts, only removing his teeth to lift his gaze to meet Cloud, whom barely clings to consciousness. “My… You don’t wish to negate every effort offered to keep you alive, do you? Stay awake, Cloud.”

And with no warning, cold fingers jut into the wound, twisting into organs and pressing against torn flash, and Cloud’s screams echo even louder with each motion.

“It hurts, doesn’t it? But your pain shall never compare to that which you caused me.” The fingers are removed as he brings them to his mouth, sucking off every drop of blood before returning to seeping all he may from the wound, devouring him with every motion. So much lost blood forces Cloud to fall to unconsciousness in time, yet Sephiroth still eats, hands intertwined in his hair, teeth ripping and tearing for more and more -

Until finally, satisfaction comes and blood still stains his lips, and the body is left upon the floor - a corpse to serve as a warning for any so foolish as to think his defeat possible.

Should he find the strength to wake again, a second chance shall not be granted - not in the way he desires.

**Author's Note:**

> Less shippy and more brutal, but if this is your thing, I hope you enjoyed! I may continue and add actual smut down the line, if there is interest/I feel like writing it.


End file.
